


The Man of Honour

by flowersaretarts



Category: Withnail & I (1986)
Genre: 18th Century, AU, M/M, Nudity, Sex, Smut, Wigs, hay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 21:45:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4851587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersaretarts/pseuds/flowersaretarts





	The Man of Honour

"So, where were we, Captain? Would you kindly remind me?"  
"Indeed, Sir. You have said: "Captain, I intend to have you right here in the hay"  
Major-General stepped inside the shed holding his riding crop. Raised an eyebrow at the young man's smirk.  
"What is it, Captain?"  
"Your wig, Sir. I believe it is most ridiculous, Sir."  
"How dare you!"   
A wider smile from Captain Marwood as he unbuttons the coat of his superior. Major-General Withnail throws away the crop and gropes the boy hard. He presses him to his face and almost swallows him. The idiots lose balance and fall into hay. now they both are laughing, looking at one another in wigs, hay in their wigs. the fingers tickling, the hay tickling. Their bodies start moving, hips against hips, rubbing against each other. Soon Peter wears nothing but a white shirt and a wig. Withnail with pushes him down into the hay, scratching his thighs, Peter is scratching his back. They are getting loud.  
“AHH...Call me...Call my name..."  
Peter is wrapping his legs round his waist, but his lover wants to go deeper, he throws Peter’s leg on his shoulder, makes him yell, thrusts him, watching him sweat...  
He goes so fast Peter's wig is falling down, releasing his gorgeous locks. His head is thrown back and Withnail growls exposing his neck  
"I DO MISS THESE"  
He puts his fingers in Marwood's mane, pulls it, makes Peter open his eyes, makes him look at him, holds his head in place.   
He looks utterly wrecked; sweat on his face, his neck and chest, those eyes fixed on Vyvian, pleading.  
"You're a curse, Captain Marwood. you must not be allowed into this world of mortals.   
Peter rips the wig off with and Vyvian pushes him down again and they roll, hugging each other, fingers in each other’s hair. Enjoying the real beauty, kissing carelessly like village children.  
Then they hear horses hot-hoofing outside. Someone’s approaching.  
They have to wriggle into hay, naked, it is too prickly. It hurts. They roll over, Peter is lying on top of Vyvian, they’re panting and Peter is still giggling. That ridiculous wig.  
"Shut up", covers his mouth "We’ve got to get out"  
"How"  
"Crawl from the back door, you fool"  
Their clothes are too far, but they must flee.  
"Come on, you're first."  
and Marwood crawls on his elbows and knees, naked, Withnail follows same way enjoying the view upfront  
they get out and run on bent legs hearing male voices from stables:  
"there are two wigs here..."  
"and a pair of boots...and a red coat!"  
Vyvian whispers.  
"We're utterly buggered, Captain"  
Peter is dead serious. Their documents were left in the coats  
"Wait here"  
“What? - Vyvian is shocked – “Are you insane?”  
“Trust me” - Peter's glance is steel cool and determined, that kind of look that turns on and frightens at the same time.  
Withnail watches his lover running in the moonshine disappearing round the barn wall  
There are screams and sounds of fight, the sound of ripped flesh…  
Peter appears in a minute, nude, covered in blood, holding his and Withnail's swords in both hands.  
"No beans shall be spilled" he says.   
Withnail watches him in awe and follows him when Peter says:   
"Let’s go, we must get decent."  
"You could have let them go, Peter."  
"No."  
No further questions. Withnail doesn't dare to say a word.  
Peter keeps the secret of their affair well. Their reputation shall be impeccable. Peter is a man of honour and he thinks of his commander's good name before his own life. So he will be the coldest assassin, if needed.  
They get dressed, coats on, wigs on, swords cleaned.  
"What about the bodies?"  
"They would be the trouble of mine."  
It’s almost sunrise. They must return to the normal life...mundane life apart. Not a glance to be exchanged. Not a clue to give them away.  
Peter is serene and solemn while the commander is grieving.  
"You must not linger, the the time is ripe."  
Withnail is on the horses back, ready to go, but he can’t tear his gaze off the Captain.  
"Good day, Sir"  
Peter bows deeply to him and Withnail hits the horse and rides away, as the morning breeze blows the tears from his face.


End file.
